Summary: Just who is Mister Popo, and what are his secrets?
Author's Note: One of the most offensively racist characters in anime, I dare say, this tale offers a necessary rectification, but this still doesn't let Toriyama off the hook for creating him in the form we see in canon. Originally written as a three-part mini-chapter fic (300 words exactly for each part) for LJ Comm Fanfic-Bakeoff's "Willful" prompt.
Warnings: Part III has tentacles.
Encounter with Mister Popo
I
Everyone calls me "Mister Popo." It is a name of both respect and easy disregard. They show me high opinion as Kami's servant, though I have served Earth's guardians for many hundreds of years before him and will no doubt serve others in future. As an immortal, I have seen so much. But few see me, beyond the persona I project. When one serves others (even when one is stronger than those he serves), speaks in broken language (despite fluency in multiple tongues), and has an appearance that validates others' presumptions of inferiority and even buffoonery, it is easiest to carry out one's missions…and to indulge in one's pleasures. And speaking of pleasures…
Greetings, stranger. I was pleased to summon you, lovely child of Earth. Oh no no, do not fuss. To me, most beings are children. But I can see you are a nearly grown young man, and you seem so bright and curious. I saw that you, like me, are alone. And I watched you chasing butterflies in the park. You see, Kami is gone now and I enjoy the opportunity to meet new souls, to see what we can share. And then, of course, I will return you safely home. "Mister Popo" harms no one.
I brought my flying carpet to you. The ride was quick and fun, was it not? We all like a little excitement in our lives. And there is nothing to fear. It is my pleasure to have you to visit. It is rare "Mister Popo" shares his secrets, and I think you will enjoy them very much. Yes, that's right, smile as I do, and let us sit down in my butterfly garden and chat. I have brought tasty snacks for you. And there will be other surprises, too. Welcome, little one.
II
Isn't it lovely here? Away from others, we can enjoy nature's beauty together. Aren't the fruits ripe and delicious? Here, have another. I can tell how hungry you are. Ah! I see a butterfly has landed on you. He sips the salt on your hand. They do not like "Mister Popo's" flavor. I am too spicy for their delicate tongues.
My true name is Popo Hotsauce. Popo is another term for "prince" on my home planet of Sriracha. I am sure you have never heard of it, and that is all right. I wish to share myself with you for a few precious moments, and bring you happiness, too. I can read your thoughts easily, lonely boy. You have run away, just as I once did. But I went far from my home planet, never to return, and you have simply to let my carpet take you back to your parents, who must miss you. Be patient, young man. You will soon be fully grown, and you must let your parents see this. Running away rarely solves anything, and sleeping on park benches with too little food is not your best destiny.
But let me return to myself, for I have something very special for you. Few, as I have said, know my real name or status. Few ask. You would think some would, being an immortal as I am. But they take the surface they see, they call me a "genie," and they take my gifts for granted. I am but a servant, and I do not let them see more. And yet I am much more. When you have finished your meal, would you like to see more, young one? See what it is to be an exiled Srirachan prince? The look in your eyes says you would.
III
Observe closely my turban, sealed with a single sacred jewel of Sriracha. When touched by another, my true power is released. It is not a power of aggression, as I see too much on this planet. I cannot devote myself to warfare, and have always taken my place beside the guardians of Earth, like the benevolent Kami. He has never seen the true me, for I use the sacred jewel's power to read what it is others wish of me. Most are content to see the servile side. Some, like Kami, value my assistance and treasure my company. But only a few curious and unique souls bring my Srirachan side to the surface, souls such as yourself.
Come, show me my powers still function after so long alone, so long away from home. Touch the jewel and let me help you to become a man. Then, as I have said, I will return you to those who love you that you might show them your power, and soon go wherever your future may take you.
Ah your touch, Earth child! So brave yet tentative, the sweetness of contact. See how my turban unwinds, how my tentacles stretch themselves after eons of being bound. It is in this way I am a genie, trapped in a mythical bottle, my lush, fragrant black tentacles that even now reach for you, loosen your garments, and long to offer you pleasures rarely known to Earthkind.
Be calm, child, take what I bestow of myself. We will share pleasures no others know, and life will unfurl before you even as you begin to forget me. Should we ever meet again, I will be merely "Mister Popo" for you, child-man. But if you seek deeply inside, you will feel my fragrant gift thrilling within you always.